


Ironteddy

by silverspirit2005



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cloakie represents all of us and ships IronStrange, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I had Tony create Rhodey, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Just Roll With It, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, all the usual Avengers crowd, if that is somehow unclear, like everyone else in the universe I believe that Peter is Tony's baby, pre-emptive apologies for butchering their teddy names, they're all teddy bears, warning: british english spelling, well some comfort at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 02:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverspirit2005/pseuds/silverspirit2005
Summary: Ironteddy was born. He made a robot (or three), fell in love, saved the universe and slept in peace.In that exact order.~~~Basically an answer to the question: "What if Tony Stark was a teddy bear and everything was somehow reaaaaaally angsty?"





	Ironteddy

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the terrible summary. My creative writing skills came to a halt there. This work is completely un-betaed and I am not a native English speaker, so please bear with me if you spotted any glaringly obvious errors.  
> This is just a little something I wrote last year after seeing Infinity War twice and deciding to sacrifice my soul to the Ironstrange altar. I had no plans to post this anywhere really, but seeing that Endgame is coming soon and will most likely another tsunami of angst, I just thought, f-it, let's mentally prepare myself and recreate the drama and angst of Infinity War. Because angst is fun.

Once upon a time there was a famous toymaker named Mr Stark. He lived in a beautiful mansion with his beautiful wife Mrs Stark and together they owned the biggest and most successful toy company in America. Mr Stark, an innovative engineer with endless imaginations for the unthinkable, designed all sorts of fascinating toys for young bright minds. Mrs Stark, however, loved small, sweet things and, with her dextrous hands, sewed and knitted and embroidered the most intricately detailed and beautiful toys. As the demand for their wonderful toys rose and rose, Mrs Stark no longer personally sewed all of the dolls by hand and Mr Stark no longer crafted hexagonal puzzle cubes himself. They had a factory with workers who realised their dreams and made them come true. However, Mr Stark still designed most of the toys and Mrs Stark still made soft toy prototypes before they went into production.

 

Mr Stark did not inherit the toy factory from his family; rather, he built it from the ground. Years ago, he was in the Army across the ocean fighting a seemingly endless war. He was shipped out when he was barely a man grown, like other boys his age, too old to be a child still yet too young to anticipate the horrors of war. Mr Stark, once dreamed of being an engineer, of making fast planes and big bombs, had to put his books and tools away and swung a rifle over his shoulder. War zone was no place for dreams. Mr Stark saw around him villages burning to the ground, heard his comrades' anguished cries as they bled on dark foreign soil. He felt fire on his skin and smelled rotten flesh as they marched through bloody battlefields. It was enough horror to traumatise a man over and over and Mr Stark was no exception. As the moon waxed and waned, as the clouds in the sky rolled with storm, as the screeching sound of bomber planes screamed down at him, Mr Stark fell into great despair.

Then one day, his battalion came to a village. The village was destroyed beyond repairs, houses blown up beyond recognition and their inhabitants long gone. As the soldiers rummaged through the debris for anything of use, Mr Stark came across a tattered teddy bear. It was a filthy torn thing, a dirty yellow bear, its stuffing half gone from a gaping hole on its back. The teddy was all by itself, trapped under a tree trunk, its owner, perhaps a little girl, was either dead or had already moved on. Mr Stark saw the little teddy and was at once rejoiced and despaired, for he remembered the long-lost peaceful childhood he once had, in a land that was so far away; yet, it also reminded him of his dreams back then, the burning desire to make something of use to mankind. The bear gave him an elated sense of joy, of pure sadness yet of hope. This single tattered bear, mangled and caked with dirt, was his saviour. And so Mr Stark took the bear with him and stuffed it in his backpack. At night, when they had settled down for the night, Mr Stark took pieces of cloths that he could find and patched up the bear with all the skills his mother once taught him. When they passed by a bombed town hall, he used the torn French flag to make a shirt and pants and helmet for the bear. When he found a fancy torn coat in an abandoned tailor’s shop, he took one of the big buttons and painted a shield on it. He called the teddy bear Captain and at night he held the teddy tight in his sleep. His comrades initially made fun of him, but then, when dark times came and there was nowhere to hide from the monsters in their heads, Mr Stark would lend them Captain and the bear would share with them its magic, would give them a bit of joy and hope, a bit of home, a bit of tomorrow. Captain became famous around the camp and eventually was known to all as a beacon of hope. Later, Mr Stark found another tattered bear in another village, a brown bear with an arm missing. Mr Stark took the bear along as well and eventually used some grey cloth to make the teddy a new arm. The new teddy, known as Sergeant, was now Captain’s companion as the battalion slowly made their way through the plains of Europe, chasing after the enemy’s backs.

Until one day they came across a Russian corps. The commander of each side tried to convey their thoughts with broken syllables and frantic hand gestures while the privates just stared at the others’ sooty face, a exhausted but faintly hopeful look mirrored in their eyes. One of them must have spotted Sergeant, for the next day, after the Russians were gone, Sergeant had disappeared together with them. Mr Stark raved and raged, but they could not afford to accuse their allies of such a petty crime and there was nothing they could do. Saddened yet powerless, Mr Stark moved on with just Captain. The night they entered Berlin, their camp was attacked by a group of fanatics who could not accept the fact that their fatherland had lost. It was a terrible and vicious fight and while they ended up triumphant, Mr Stark lost Captain in the scuffle. He went up and down the streets looking for it, asking everyone he knew, yet no one had seen the teddy. And so, with a broken heart, Mr Stark marched through the rubble of Berlin feeling like a part of him was lost forever.

Months later, when he was finally home, Mr Stark finally realised what his life goal would be. He wanted to recreate the hope and joy that Captain had brought him, not just for himself but for all children, all the innocent ones who did not have live through the war. He wanted to create the most perfect toys, the most incredible puzzles, the most lovable teddies. And so, he opened his little toy store that eventually turned into a big toy factory, he married Mrs Stark, a beautiful girl with a gentle heart and careful hands and they slowly built their toy empire.

 

Years went by and the Starks had created so many wonderful toys. From the loveliest dolls and the most beautiful toy tea sets to complicated puzzle cubes and lively action figures, there was nothing that they had not thought of. Girls and boys near and far loved them, the toys were always a favourite at birthdays and Christmases, the factory was brightly lit day and night and the Starks were richer than they could imagine. Mr Stark had an expansive workshop where he could design all he wanted and Mrs Stark had rolls of beautiful fabrics and drawers full of buttons and lace and all the yarns she could desire. Yet, Mr Stark was still not satisfied, for he realised that of all the toys he had made over the years, none had given him the same kind of joy and hope that Captain used to bring. Thus, one day he decided to recreate Captain. He would make the most perfect teddy bear.

And so, Ironteddy was born. It was the ultimate teddy bear - aimed for action-loving children, it was designed to be tough and sturdy, with sharp edges and bold colourations and a fierce look on its face. But, as a teddy, it was also incredibly soft and cuddly, making sure that after the long bouts of mock-battles, the child could just lie down and cuddle it in their sleep. It took Mr Stark years and years to plan and finally came up with Ironteddy, then he gave the design to his wife who crocheted and sewed the prototype teddy. She chose the most lustrous wool-blend yarn to make its skin and she filled it up with the finest stuffing money could buy. Her swift fingers sewed its little ears onto its round little head with love and care and she took time to adjust its chubby arms and legs until they all sat right. It took Mrs Stark hours and hours, but finally, when she was done, she could not be happier with her work. A full-formed teddy, with bright gold and red armour, a tiny blue heart in the centre of its chest, a grim look on its face, yet so sweet and soft she could not help but hug it tight to her bosoms.

In her excitement, she brought Ironteddy to show Mr Stark and his business partner, Mr Stane. Mr Stane loved Ironteddy, he marveled on how handsome the teddy looked, how tough his posture seemed, yet at the same time still so adorable kids would definitely love it.

Mr Stark, however, was not happy.

He squinted at the teddy sitting on the table, he frowned and grimaced and looked at it all over. In the end, he flicked Ironteddy on the head and said,

“Not good enough.”

Then he stormed away into his workshop, muttering about the perfect teddy bear, leaving Ironteddy lying on its side on the table with an arm still reaching out, as if begging Mr Stark to come back.

Mr Stark never returned.

Mrs Stark was very sad. She thought Mr Stark would finally be happy with the teddy, how could he not, for Ironteddy was such a lovely bear. Mr Stane, after a long while sitting in silence with a frown on his face, came to the table and sat Ironteddy upright. He comforted Mrs Stark, telling her that Mr Stark was probably just tired, Ironteddy was indeed perfect in every way, he would bring the blueprint to the factory and have Ironteddy in production right away. Then he picked Ironteddy up and returned him to Mrs Stark. He patted the teddy on the head and took his leave.

Mrs Stark brought Ironteddy to bed that night. She was an adult so she did not need to sleep with teddies, but that night she needed the comfort. She did not care whether Ironteddy became a success or not, she did not care how much money it would bring, she only saw the little creation as her perfect child, there was nothing else to improve on it and she loved it just the way it was.

And so it lured her into sleep.

 

***

 

Humans had no awareness of this, but teddy bears were living beings.

To humans, they appeared to be just like any normal toy. They sat still and did not breathe and could not move and were an inanimate object through and through. The idea that a toy created by man would be alive was just inconceivable, yet somehow was completely true, for the life of teddy bears defied all biological rules known to man. Teddies became alive the moment they received their first stuffing and grew aware of the surrounding world as they became more and more completed.

The moment the last bit of thread was snipped off, the teddy took its first breath.

 

***

 

Ironteddy did not know how to feel about Mrs Stark.

One of his earliest recollections was seeing her for the first time with one eye. She was in the middle of sewing his other eye and her face was no more than a silhouette, darkened by the bright light behind her head. He remembered the sting of the needle as it jabbed through his skin, yet it was not painful, for the threading was gentle and the hand cradling his head was warm. By the end, his vision was clear and he could see her completely. Ironteddy, then no more than a teddy bear head with pieces of his body scattered across the workstation, thought her the most beautiful person in the world. As she completed him piece by piece, he could feel her love for him growing, flowing into the empty space between his stuffing, making him feel heavy and full with love. It was a heady feeling and by the time she was done, he had never felt more alive.

That was the only time she had loved him.

After the first night where she had hold him in her sleep, the next morning she handed him to a man called Mr Jarvis, who brought him to another room. The room was spacious and lit from two large windows on the wall, it was lined with shelves and shelves filled with toys of all kinds. Mr Jarvis called this the toy room and placed him on a dust-free shelf next to a shiny blue cube. Mr Jarvis caressed his soft ears and gently touched his arm with a sad look on his face, then he was gone. The next morning, he would be back to dust the room, humming softly as he went along, touching each and every toy with a loving look. He said good morning to Ironteddy and gave him a smile. He was soon gone, but the next day the sun returned and brought Mr Jarvis back as well.

It would be another month before Ironteddy saw Mrs Stark again. That morning, Mr Jarvis took extra care to dust him free of any dust and picked him clean of lint. Then, he brought him out of the toy room and handed him to Mr Stane who greeted him with a loud laugh. Mr Stane held him in his large warm arms and walked to the car outside where Mr and Mrs Stark were already waiting. He sat in the front seat and asked Mrs Stark whether she would like to hold Ironteddy. Ironteddy was facing ahead, so he had no idea what her reaction was, but eventually Mr Stane gave him to Mrs Stark and she gripped him tightly as the car moved. Mrs Stark’s face was cold as ice and so were her fingertips as they dug into his arms. She hardly looked at him but spent the majority of the time staring straight ahead with occasional glances to Mr Stark sitting next to her. Mr Stark himself never once acknowledged him and stayed sullenly silent despite Mr Stane’s jovial attempt at conversations. When the car stopped in front of a building, Mr and Mrs Stark put on a lukewarm smile on their face and faced the crowd waiting outside. They walked up a podium where Mr Stark introduced the new line of toy, the Ironteddies, as Mrs Stark stood next to him and cradling Ironteddy in the crook of her arm. Their faces looked excited and their voices even more so, but Ironteddy only felt the cold. As the crowd applauded and the children started to demand their parents for the new toy, Mrs Stark quietly walked back to the car. She dropped Ironteddy in the front seat and belted herself to the back, resolutely not looking at him. When the men came back, Mr Stane wordlessly held Ironteddy for the rest of the drive home, and while his hands were callous and rough, Ironteddy sighed and leaned into them all the same, for it was all that he would ever get.

 

***

 

For a time, Ironteddy thought that Mr Stane was his creator.

Logically, he knew that it was Mrs Stark’s hands that made him, but Mr Stane, or Obie as he had taken to call him, must have been his designer. For why else would he be so happy and proud every time he saw Ironteddy? Ironteddy was aware that for humans, he was no different from an inanimate object, a stuffed toy for decorative purpose in a house full of grown-ups, yet every time Obie came for a visit, he would surely stop by the toy room and give Ironteddy a pat on the head. And, while Ironteddy might not understand all human emotions, he knew enough to recognise Obie as being sincere, that he was not just being nice because Mr Jarvis or Mrs Stark asked him to. The love from Obie, while not as strong as that from Mr Jarvis, was a real thing, and that built up in Ironteddy as well, a thing that he truly treasured.

Then, on one of the nights he spent wandering and exploring in Mr Stark’s workshop, he found his own blueprint in a portfolio. And it was truly his blueprint, from the bold letters IRONTEDDY on top, to the smallest details of his mask and repulsors, they were all there. Signed at the bottom of the blueprint was Mr Stark’s signature.

In a way, it made perfect sense for Mr Stark to be his creator. Yet, deep within the fibres of his stuffing, Ironteddy still found it hard to believe. His first memory of Mr Stark was when he looked at him with such disdain and disappointment in his eyes it made almost all the love that Mrs Stark had given him bleed out. Then Mr Stark had shoved him and had walked away. The times after was no better, either Mr Stark ignored him or glared at him like he was a thing to be hated. Mr Stark never visited him in the toy room and never touched him gently. Mr Stark had never been proud of him.

The fact that Ironteddy was still mobile today was only because of Obie and Mr Jarvis. Sometimes, he hated the fact that he was just a teddy bear and wished that he was a real life human, just so he could give Obie and Mr Jarvis a hug. But he could not. The only thing he could do was to greedily absorb all the love that they gave him, for it was the only thing that he ever knew.

 

***

 

Like you and me, teddy bears could walk and dance and love and cry. No one had ever seen a teddy bear walk, however, for they hid it very well. Teddies knew that once humans knew that they were alive, they would no longer love them, they would become something abnormal, something incomprehensible, and that would be unacceptable. That was because teddies lived on love, they fed on the love that others unconditionally gave them, their joyful burst of energy and their happiness all came from this. Once a teddy was no longer loved, it died and left behind a teddy carcass, under human eyes seemingly no different from any other teddies, but other teddies could feel that it was no longer there, a lifeless loveless body. For centuries and centuries, ever since the first teddy was stitched together from patches of cloth, that was the way it had always been. No one knew when teddy bears became alive, no one knew how, no one knew why. Teddies did not question it either, for them there was only one ultimate truth:

Teddies needed love.

 

***

 

Ironteddy was not loved.

That was, in fact, not quite true, for there were Mr Jarvis and Obie, who gave him enough love to sustain him and let him move his legs and wiggle his ears. Their love was enough for him to think and create and feel.

And the thing he felt was an abyss of loneliness.

Teddies were usually given to children who had an endless wealth of love for them. They hugged and kissed and had tea parties with teddies, they drooled on teddies as they slept, they sneaked teddies out to school in their knapsacks and had teddy picnics with little sandwiches and juice boxes and apples. That was where teddies got most of their love, the love which they hoarded like treasures for the days to come, the days in the future where the children grew up and no longer played with them. For those dark days, they still had the ember of love that the children once gave them, still had the memories of sunshine and warmth, even as they spent the rest of their days stuffed in a box full of other childhood toys. For a teddy, that was what called happiness.

Ironteddy was never given to any children. He was born within the walls of a grown-up house, no young hands had ever touched or hold him, he had never known the fresh smell of spilled milk or flowery detergent or warm cinnamon cakes or sunny days in the laundry basket. Ironteddy’s world was a mausoleum of unused toys, illuminated only by an old man’s dustfeather and a rare pat on the head. For all the love that Mr Jarvis and Obie had for him, both of them were adults and had myriads of other things to care for and were incapable of unconditional love for a teddy. That was the world Ironteddy lived in, a grey and brown world of stillness, neither alive nor dead. An existence in limbo.

 

***

 

If it were just any old teddy bears, they would have just accepted their sad reality and did their best to pass by their lonely days. But Ironteddy was a stubborn and smart teddy who refused to accept his fate. And he was nothing if not resourceful. He was created by the brightest of minds and that carried over in him, for there must be a time, so very distant in the past when Ironteddy was nothing more than a doodle on paper, when Mr Stark did feel some love for him. He was made to be a logical teddy, and so he asked himself, where should he get love from? Mr and Mrs Stark were of no help, Mr Jarvis and Obie were not enough to sustain him for long, there were no children or anyone else in the house and he was incapable of going outside by himself.

If love would not come to him naturally, then the logical conclusion was to create love.

And so, late at night, when Mr Stark had finally fallen asleep at his desk after a bout of drinking, Ironteddy sneaked into his workshop and designed himself a friend who would love him. It was hard for a teddy to hold a pencil, but he wrapped both of his stubby arms around the pen and dragged it across the paper with cautious steps, fearful that he would wake Mr Stark. Ironteddy drew and made some calculations and drew some more, and when dawn arrived, he dropped the pencil and tugged his drawing into one of the many forgotten drawers that were in the workshop, then he quietly sneaked through the door and came back to the toy room before he could be caught by anyone.

Days later, the drawing was finally completed. Ironteddy was so excited he almost knocked over the cup full of coloured pencils which would have waken Mr Stark for sure. He could feel the stitches on his neck quiver with excitement, but he tried to control himself. He rolled up the drawing and carried it over to the tool corner where Mr Stark kept his nuts and bolts and screwdrivers and other things he used to make mechanical toys. There, under a sliver of moonlight from the window high above, Ironteddy started to assemble his creation. He found a bit of scrap metal under the desk and some nails and hammers, and bit by bit, a little bit of tape here, a shiny light bulb there, little by little Ironteddy invented.

Finally, his invention was completed. He put down the wrench and took a few steps back, admiring his creation. In a glance, it did not look like much more like a pile of scraps with bits of metal protruding out here and there. But, as Ironteddy flicked up a button at the back, the pile of metal shuddered and came to life. It spun and whistled softly and it moved its little claw up and down. Its viewfinder zoomed in and out and finally focused on Ironteddy.

 _I am Ironteddy_ , said Ironteddy. _And your name is DUMMY_.

 

For a while, DUMMY was enough.

DUMMY, with his rudimentary process power, could recognise and acknowledge Ironteddy as his creator. He was clumsy and naïve and more trouble than help as he bumped into various tidbits and cheerfully greeted every inanimate things he saw with funny chirps and beeps. Ironteddy had smuggled him from the workshop into the toy room as soon as he could, and since hardly anyone but Mr Jarvis came in there, there was minimal chance of DUMMY being found. DUMMY’s vocal tendency did help Ironteddy a lot too; the sound, while seemingly annoying, showed that DUMMY did care for him, even with his basic learning ability, and that to a teddy was no different from love. Ironteddy felt happy and warm next to him and they snuggled together in sleep, despite DUMMY’s pointy claws and cold metal case.

Sometimes, though, Ironteddy was taken out of the toy room and into a car to go outside, when Stark Toys needed to show him off. Usually it would be Obie who came to fetch him, and while Ironteddy adored Obie, he also felt bad for leaving DUMMY behind. DUMMY’s chirps were too quiet for human ears to hear, but to Ironteddy they were louder than the loudest of drums, the sound of loneliness he once heard every night. And so, he decided to make DUMMY a friend too. Again he sneaked into the workshop and again he drew and hammered, and finally Butterfingers was created.

Then, he made U, and that was when he was discovered.

 

In Ironteddy’s wildest dreams never would he even imagine that a day would come when Mr Stark would step a foot into the toy room. Such a thing had never happened and it was so far removed from Ironteddy’s imagination that it did not even occur to him. Maybe that was why he was careless. It was night time and the household had gone to sleep, that was when Ironteddy usually turned on DUMMY and Butterfingers and U and let them roam around the shelves, their adhesive caterpillar tracks allowing them to go from shelf to shelf without falling. Ironteddy was scribbling a new design on a piece of scrap paper that he took from the workshop, only paying half-attention to the whistles and soft whirring from the robots. When Ironteddy was in an inventing binge, he hardly paid attention to much else, which was why he never heard the door creaking open, never heard the bots’ excited greetings to the strange man standing at the door, gaping at the sight of three robots clinging to his trophy shelves and a teddy bear writing calculations on the windowsill. Ironteddy did not hear the man walking in disbelief into the room, did not feel his warm breath on his back as he loomed over and looked at the blueprint, did not hear his gasp as his eyes traced the numbers. But, all of the sudden, Ironteddy felt a rush of love that made him gape and stop his writing. It was a heady, unfamiliar feeling, unlike the enduring love from Mr Jarvis, the burst of warmth from Obie, or even the soft whisper of love like Mrs Stark that one time. This was like a hurricane, a flood of excitement, of pride, the thing he had longed for all his life but had never once felt. It was heady, it was amazing, and when Ironteddy looked up, he saw Mr Stark’s smile illuminated under the moonlight, a scene that would henceforth carved itself into his memory fibres until eternity.

Inexplicably, Ironteddy had committed the biggest crime of his kind: showing humankind that teddies were alive. Yet, there was no retribution, little children everywhere still cuddled their teddies to sleep with none the wiser. That was because Mr Stark had never told anyone about what he saw. That night, he took Ironteddy to his workshop and asked him all sorts of questions, the most animated Ironteddy had ever seen him. Ironteddy, alive that he was, still could not talk, so he could only write down his answers with pen and paper. And there were so much that he could write. There had never been a person who could comprehend all that Ironteddy had to say, and it sure was a lot. For all that he lacked in fundamental understanding on physics and chemistry and biology and, he still had myriads of ideas on creative toys and machines and cars. Ironteddy could not stop himself if he wanted to nd Mr Stark only encouraged him, urging him to draw and write and calculate and design. They spent days holed up in the workshop going through the many ideas that Ironteddy had stored in his head, smoothing over errors and planning up the framework. At the end of that week, Ironteddy was close to bursting with love, love and pride had wormed and entwined into every bit of stuffing in him, so much that his small body could hardly hold it all in. Ironteddy told himself, _that was it, that was what happiness felt like_.

That was the only rare good time he had of Mr Stark. In retrospect, Ironteddy wished that he had never known how it felt like, for it only served as a bitter recollection to him from then on, a sour taste of a thing unattainable, a thing of such beauty dangling above your head that you could never get. It was worse than when Mr Stark had never loved him.

 

At the end of the inventing binge, they had made so many new inventions, not only just toys, but engines and equipment and everything. They made a great team, too. Ironteddy designed while Mr Stark used the tools to make the design come true, with Ironteddy helping out whenever he could. Mr Stark had looked at him with so much pride by the end Ironteddy did not know what to do with it. It was a strange feeling indeed.

Then one day, they heard Obie coming through the corridor and Mr Stark’s demeanour completely changed. He picked up Ironteddy and hastily put him under the table, telling him to keep still. Ironteddy nodded frantically, not wanting to show teddykind’s secret to yet another human. From underneath the table, Ironteddy could only hear Obie’s voice and his legs as he walked into the workshop. He heard they exchange greetings and heard Obie’s exclamation as he was shown the new inventions. He heard joy and pride from both of them and that made Ironteddy feel all warm inside, he was so happy, he did not even mind when Mr Stark claimed the new designs and inventions as his own. Obie left with overwhelming joy and arms full of new things while Mr Stark promised that he would have more for him on his next return. When Obie was gone, Mr Stark took Ironteddy out from under the table and told him that they had more work to do.

Thus set the routine for the next few months. Ironteddy designed, Mr Stark worked on the designs, Obie came to look at the inventions and decide which one to show to the Board to put into production. Stark Toys had never produced more toys and they had even opened a Technology branch of the company for the non-toy inventions. Stark, once a well-known name among young children, was now a household name with their new phones and computers. Obie looked more and more rejoiced whenever he came over and he always called Ironteddy their Lucky Bear, for that was Mr Stark’s justification for having him in the workshop instead of the toy room. Mrs Stark stopped by a few times to remind Mr Stark of an event they had to go to and even absentmindedly patted Ironteddy. Mr Jarvis dusted him whenever he stopped by to clean the workshop and always gave him a secret smile like he knew what was going on, but that always soothed Ironteddy instead of making him feel threatened. The whole household was on the up-and-up.

Except for Mr Stark. For it finally dawned on him one very important realisation: Ironteddy was much smarter than him. Impossibly, a teddy bear made from yarn and microfibres were the brain behind Stark Industries now, not just the toys but also the very intricate technologies. The only thing Mr Stark had to offer was his human hands which he could use to craft the invention. If Ironteddy had such hands, Mr Stark himself would become obsolete. And while the teddy was happy to let Mr Stark take all the credits, Mr Stark himself knew deep down inside that he was no more than a worker for a teddy bear. That thought humiliated and enraged him. A teddy bear he once thought was not enough, and in truth was never as good as his old Captain, was now his superior. The one thing he had always treasured, his creativity and intellect, thwarted by a stuffed toy. And so, Mr Stark gradually grew to resent Ironteddy. He started to pick fights with him for no reasons, started to make silly errors and berate Ironteddy when the creation failed. Ironteddy could also feel his love quickly draining, replaced by cold ire and blazing fury. Yet, a teddy remembered and craved love, and so he told himself, _maybe it was just a phase, maybe Mr Stark was just feeling unwell, it would be all better tomorrow_. And so he braced himself and soldiered through another day, through Mr Stark’s increasing insults and frustration. _Tomorrow would be better_ , he told himself. _Tomorrow, Mr Stark would love him again._

Then, Mr Stark got really drunk one night. It was after the launch of the new mobile phone, everyone had praised him to the sky on the new sleek device, much lighter and more functional than the previous model. All the while, as he accepted handshakes and clinked his wineglass with others, he was fully aware of whom the praises should be for and that gave him a bitter taste as the night dragged on. By the time he got home, he was completely inebriated, yet he still somehow found his way to the workshop. He barged into the shop to find Ironteddy looking at a framed photo on his shelf. A photo of him back in his war days, a rare snapshot of a much younger him holding the Captain teddy.

“You would never be as good as him”, Mr Stark said.

And Mr Stark went on to tell Ironteddy all about Captain, how he was found and repaired, all the adventures they went on together, how he had comforted Mr Stark through it all, how devastated his loss was to him, how perfect of a teddy he was. How Ironteddy was a failed attempt to recreate Captain, how nothing could measure up to him. Mr Stark rambled on and on and kept on repeating, “You’d never be good enough.” At the end, Mr Stark finally fell asleep at the desk, clinging to the framed yellowed photograph like it was his lifeline.

The days followed, Mr Stark added a new routine to his insults. “If only you were Captain.” “Captain would have figured this long ago.” “You would never be as good as Captain.” Variations of these went on and on, and soon enough Ironteddy knew without a doubt in his heart that he was never going to be as good as Captain. That was the reason for all the insults, the threats, the times that a frustrated Mr Stark would toss him across the room, the times when he shook him so hard his stitches threatened to loosen. That was why he was no longer loved by Mr Stark. Ironteddy did not know that Mr Stark could no longer love him because of his own incompetence, because he was humiliated and shamed. Ironteddy was never to know.

It was all the same, anyway. Ironteddy was again a teddy bear unloved.

 

***

 

One day, Mr Stark did not come home.

It was December, which did not mean much to Ironteddy other than the fact that outside got darker more quickly and there was a thick fluffy white layer of snow outside. Mr Jarvis had talked to him about snow ages ago when he used to live in the toy room but he had never experienced it. For a teddy did not feel the physical cold, he could not comprehend what touching snow would feel like. To him, it had always looked soft and nice to run on.

On one such snowy days, Mr Jarvis came into the workshop while Ironteddy was trying his best to tighten a screw with a screwdriver. He froze when he saw Mr Jarvis came in, but Mr Jarvis just said, “I know”, and picked Ironteddy up and hugged him tight. Mr Jarvis, while always full of love, had never hugged him, it was a strangely nice feeling. Then Mr Jarvis brought him back to the toy room to the cheers of the robots, “I’ve been dusting and charging them in your absence,” and placed him among the shelves with the bots. Ironteddy did not quite know what was going on and was pretty annoyed, but as he was trying to climb down the shelf, he heard voices from the corridor, which scared him out of leaving. He sat still on the shelf with his bots, listening attentively to the cacophony of footsteps and voices on the other side of the door. He heard them moving towards the workshop and the sounds stayed in there for a long time. Then they emerged and moved down the corridor again, this time towards the toy room. Mr Jarvis opened the door, followed by a dozen people in black suit and white shirt, among whom was Obie. They looked around the room in a daze, their eyes gazing at shelves and shelves of inventions and toys with a mix of bewilderment and sadness. Then, snapped out from the trance, they moved around the room, picking up things and talking to each other in a murmur. Obie himself came towards Ironteddy and picked him up. He levelled him to his face and said to Ironteddy:

“Your mom and dad are gone. Do you want to come home with me?”

Ironteddy almost nodded out of habit, but somehow stopped himself in time. He had not even fully comprehend Obie’s words. Mom? Dad? Gone? What was he talking about?

Then Obie was carrying him off towards Mr Jarvis, telling him that he would be taking Ironteddy with him. Mr Jarvis only looked at him solemnly for a minute, then he sighed and nodded resignedly.

“If you are going to take him, do you mind taking those robots along as well? Those are his friends and they’ve been together for a long time.”

Obie looked at Mr Jarvis as if he was insane, but only mirthlessly chuckled and said, “Why not?”

And so Ironteddy said goodbye to Mr Jarvis and went home with Obie.

 

***

 

Obie lived in a mansion himself, although smaller than Mr and Mrs Stark’s, it was still massive. There was a Mr Newman who was like Mr Jarvis, just younger and harsher. There was no Mrs Obie, but unlike the Starks, Obie had a boy living with him who called him Uncle Obadiah. Ironteddy later learned that the boy’s parents had passed away and now he lived with Obie, his mother’s brother. The boy was called Edward and he was twelve. On the first day Ironteddy was brought there, Obie handed him and the bots to Edward and said,

“Be nice to them, they belonged to a dear friend of mine.”

And so Ironteddy lived in Edward’s room. It was smaller and a lot more cramped than the toy room and it was chock full of things. Edward’s clothes strewn from one end to the other of the room, his desk was full of books and pens and knick-knacks, his games and toys in various corners. Edward placed Ironteddy on the bookshelf and promptly forgot all about him. Edward, a boy of twelve, no longer desired teddy bears but he loved the bots. He adored their movements and whistles and he tied toy guns onto them and enacted alien battles with them as they moved about confusedly in this new room.

And so it went for a few years. When Edward was home from school, Ironteddy sat motionlessly on the bookshelf as the boy did his homework and played with the bots and Gameboy and computer. When Edward fell asleep, Ironteddy would climb down from the shelf to cuddle the bots and taught them how to avoid bumping into Edward’s socks on the floor. When Edward was at school, Ironteddy would quietly log into his computer and learn things on the internet. That was how he learned that the Starks had passed away in a car accident, that the Stark mansion had been sold, that Stark Industries was now Stane Industries and that they dealt with weapon manufacturing now. Distantly, Ironteddy recalled drawing blueprints for missiles and guns and planes when he was still in the workshop, a vague concept to a teddy bear who had no use for such things. Obie must have found the designs and started to manufacture them.

It was a boring life. Edward’s love was a fleeting thing, almost non-existing. Only the bots’ undying affection and Obie’s rare visits sustained him. Ironteddy yearned for Mr Stark’s workshop, yearned for pens and papers, yearned to write down all the thoughts in his head, yearned to create, to invent. So one day, Ironteddy started typing his thoughts down onto a document on Edward’s computer. Typing was pretty hard for a teddy bear, the keys were not designed for stumpy teddy paws and he made a lot of mistakes at the beginning. But soon enough, he could type pages and pages of calculations and designs and thoughts and ideas. No flowing literature for him, for he was not educated in the arts, but singular phrases, one word running into the other as they tried to keep up with his million thoughts. At the end of the day, he hid the file under so many inconspicuous folders no one could ever find it and climbed back up the shelves, just in time for the bedroom door to slam open as Edward rushed in with his bag slung over the shoulder and shirt damped from football practice.

And that would have been how Ironteddy’s life would be from then on, until a day when he was caught.

He was in one of his design binge again. He was missing Mr Jarvis something fierce that day and just wanted to see him again. Yet, alas, he could not. But, like all the problems that Ironteddy had encountered, if he could not do something, he invented something to compensate for it. And he had come up with this brilliant idea of making an AI that would be just like Mr Jarvis. So he started to write formulas and formulas for the AI, writing furiously on the keyboard. He was so absorbed in the task, he could not hear the door creaking open, or the bots sudden rapid chirpings in warning, or the shadow of a man standing behind him. Suddenly, his chair was spun around and his paws were ripped from the keyboard.

Standing in front of him was Obie, who stared at the teddy in mid-motion with the most astonished look in his eyes. _Oh no, I have done it again_ , Ironteddy frantically thought as he tried to keep really still, hoping that Obie would not look deeper. But then Obie picked him up with both hands and brought him up to his face.

“Kid?”

And it was just something about Obie’s voice, or his softened expression, his deep blue eyes and gentle warm hands that reminded Ironteddy of Mr Stark on the day he discovered his secrets, the day when Mr Stark loved him. Obie was also full of love for him, a fire rapidly warming up his every fibres, and somehow, Ironteddy felt a twinge in his chest. If teddy bears could cry, he would have cried right then, but he could not, so all he could do was raising his arms out towards Obie, like a child begging for a hug. Ironteddy could not speak, yet Obie seemed to understand him anyway and he pulled Ironteddy close to his chest, hugging him one-handedly while Ironteddy gripped at his shirt tightly in his feeble fabric paws, trembling all over even though teddies did not feel the cold.

“Oh, kiddo”, Obie’s voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating Ironteddy’s entire body.

Ironteddy had no words, he just held on tight. And Ironteddy would not know this for years to come, but that was the first time he loved.

 

Unlike Mr Stark, Obie did not dig deeper into Ironteddy’s secrets. He held Ironteddy in his arms as he held on and his body trembled with foreign emotions, he did not ask how or why Ironteddy could move. He only smoothed the ruffled yarn on his back with his large hand and waited for Ironteddy to calm down. Then, when Ironteddy no longer shook like leaf, he turned him around to face the screen full of calculations and numbers. Ironteddy, one paw still gripping Obie’s shirt, started to type on the keyboard with his free paw.

“Artificial intelligence”

“Mr Jarvis”

“Love”

Obie sat and read as Ironteddy scrolled through the documents, making notes along the way in an attempt to explain to Obie what he meant to do. He then opened older documents containing older designs, of mechanical trains and automated machinery and sleek phones and an idea called ‘Bluetooth’. When Ironteddy finally tired himself out, he turned to look at Obie, not entirely sure what he was expecting. Mr Stark had seemed very proud at the beginning, he remembered, but he was not so proud afterwards and more upset than happy. _Please be proud of me_ , Ironteddy thought.

Obie did not quite look proud or happy, yet he was not upset either. What was on his face was a completely different expression, one of shockingly bold hunger. When Obie realised that Ironteddy was watching him, the expression disappeared as if Ironteddy had imagined it. His face only expressed love and Ironteddy just wanted to snuggle close to him and not let go. He dared to lean his head against Obie’s chest, which must have surprised Obie for his face stretched out to something much more genuine and his hand came up to cradle Ironteddy’s head. That night, Obie brought Ironteddy back to his room. He placed Ironteddy on the sofa among a mountain of pillows and draped a giant throw over his legs. He kissed Ironteddy on his head, patted his head fondly and wished Ironteddy a good night. Ironteddy watched on as Obie got into the bed nearby and turned off the light. There were but a few metres between them, yet it felt like such a giant gulf. The moonlight from the window seemed to light up Obie’s white night shirt, turning him into a beacon that Ironteddy desperately wanted to reach. Yet, Ironteddy told himself not to be greedy, Obie’s love was already more than enough, for in truth, he was surrounded by a warm layer of love radiated from Obie which made him more at east and happy than he had ever been. And so, Ironteddy snuggled into a pillow, pulled his blanket up to his chin and hummed himself to sleep as Obie’s shining back slowly faded away from his eyes.

And so, Ironteddy began creating again. Obie moved him and the bots to a workshop he had set up in the basement of his mansion and filled it with tools and materials of all kinds. Ironteddy no longer had to freeze and hide away, he was now free to move and hammer and weld and invent to his heart’s desire. He drew hundreds of designs and made them into perfect gadgets that Obie happily carted away and had them mass-produced. Ironteddy even got the chance to finally create JARVIS and install him all over the room. Ironteddy had never felt more free, yet somehow never more alone, for Obie was at work a lot and hardly ever visited him unless to get more creations and sprinkle him with enough love to keep him warm. Edward was never allowed in the basement and the bots gradually were insufficient to keep him healthy, for designing and using tools took a toll on a teddy bear. JARVIS, while a brilliant concept and was more alive than he ever thought possible, was still a computer program and did not know how to love. He now had all the toys and tools he could wish for, yet it was not enough still. He wanted another friend. Yet, robots did not seem to suffice.

And so, Ironteddy made himself a teddy bear. It was hard work for a teddy bear, to make another teddy, for he never knew how to crochet or sew or thread. He wanted his friend to be perfect, so he spent days looking for the perfect material, the softest yarn and felt, the nicest buttons, the fluffiest microfibre. He had to hide it from Obie who would not want him to make teddies while he was supposed to make gadgets and weapons. It took him a long time, but finally his teddy bear was complete, a grey bulldozer of a bear with so many huggable pieces, who looked fierce and threatening yet still a ball of fluff underneath, not unlike Ironteddy himself. He named him Rhodeybear.

Perhaps it was because Ironteddy made Rhodeybear himself, for they just clicked automatically. They were fast friends the moment Rhodeybear became conscious and they seemed to understand each other without a problem. Ironteddy already loved Rhodeybear, had done so since he made his first stitch, and it was not long before Rhodeybear loved him in return. A mutual love between them kept them alive and Ironteddy had never been happier than he was before. They talked and joked and played pranks on each other, they chased the bots around like puppies, they told each other stories and cuddled together in sleep. Obie, once found out, could not even fault Ironteddy, for Rhodeybear was perfect, the perfect friend for a teddy bear. Obie did try to market Rhodeybear, but Ironteddy stopped him in time. It was selfish of him, he knew, wanting to keep Rhodeybear all to himself. But Obie relented easily enough anyway upon promises of more inventions in the near future.

 

Ironteddy could tell that Rhodeybear wanted to go outside.

While Ironteddy was content with being in the workshop, coding and connecting cables all day, Rhodeybear was not. He liked running and jumping and he wanted to meet other people, for he had only ever interacted with Obie and was curious about the world outside. He loved Ironteddy and the bots, but inventing was not his thing. Eventually Ironteddy agreed to let him sneak outside at night, when most humans were asleep, so he could see what the world was like.

The first night, Rhodeybear came back without a stitch out of place and a million stories to tell. He told Ironteddy about all the tall buildings he saw, the colourful lights, the giant billboards, the plastic bags floating on the streets, the stores with beautiful clothes inside, the drunk people singing and dancing with a teddy bear they thought they had hallucinated, the smells and sounds, all the most bizarre and disgusting and wondrous things about the city. Rhodeybear slept soundly that night to dreams of the next day while Ironteddy watched his best friend, thinking of a day when Rhodeybear would not return.

The second time, Rhodeybear brought back an old newspaper. Ironteddy could read news on the internet, but he had never seen a newspaper in real life before and they spent the night gorging on the smell of ink and the feeling of crisp paper in their paws.

The third time, Rhodeybear came back smelling of stale beer. He had accidentally stepped in a puddle of spilled beer, he said. They spent the rest of the night trying to wash Rhodeybear and get rid of the smell.

The fourth time, Rhodeybear was caught.

 

It was bound to happen, Ironteddy knew. In a city that never slept, there was meant to be someone mentally coherent enough to notice a teddy bear walking about the city, regardless of how late in the evening it was. And someone did, some random jetlagged tourists who took photos of a teddy bear hopping along the pavement underneath the dimming streetlights, who followed said teddy bear as he skipped all the way to the Stane mansion and watched him climb inside through an opened window.

The next day, photos of Rhodeybear was everywhere on the front of newspapers. Journalists swarmed at the gate of the mansion, yelling for Obie, for Edward, for anyone they could see through the drawn curtains. Obie barged into the workshop that morning, face red with fury and foaming at the mouth, demanding an explanation from them. Ironteddy had never been more terrified. With shaking paws, they tried to explain what happened to Obie. Obie listened to them and paced around the workshop with quick stamping steps, brows drawn together and face scrunched in thought.

“We have to tell them the truth, kid.”

And that was how the world knew about the secret life of teddy bears.

 

Surprisingly enough, the truth did not quite impact the relationship between humans and teddies, as the teddies had long feared. Apparently, the fact that they could only be alive thanks to human’s love made them even more desirable, for it put them under the mercy of human and their whims. Humans always did love to feel superior. There were a few cases where people threw away their teddies, horrified that they were sentient, but those teddies were soon rescued and donated to orphanages, where they received even more love. Overall, people thought of them as pets, which was how teddies had always seen themselves anyway. Super smart teddies like Ironteddy was one in a billion, so there was no big ethical debates as to what owning a teddy meant.

The best thing that came out of this was that Rhodeybear could now go outside in broad daylight without fear. Every time he stepped out, he was treated like a celebrity, people dogging his steps and watching what a teddy would do for the day, they asked for his photos and signatures like he was a superstar. The few times that Rhodeybear could convince Ironteddy to come with them, the crowd went even wilder, so Ironteddy eventually opted to stay inside away from the mass. Gradually, Rhodeybear got bored of cruising the town with no purpose in mind and the people no longer followed him around as the sight had lost its novelty. One day, Rhodeybear came to Ironteddy and told him that he would like to join the Army. Turned out, he had come across a barrack and ventured inside and had long talks with the soldiers stationed there, had toured the place and had found meaning in what they did.

 _I need a purpose in life_ , Rhodeybear confessed.

 _Am I not enough?_ , Ironteddy thought. Yet he did not dare say this out loud. His greatest fear had come true, he had lost his best friend to the human world.

 _I still love you,_ Rhodeybear promised when they hugged goodbye. _I will try to visit_.

 

Ironteddy still moved and designed after he was gone, so he figured Rhodeybear did love him still.

 

***

 

Years later, Ironteddy still lived with Obie. Stane Industries were stronger than ever, specialising in manufacturing weapons for the army, all designed by the one famous Ironteddy. He was soon known as the Teddy of Death and he took it all in stride, for it had no grand meaning to him. He himself did not even know what humans used his inventions for. He just created and created, making a reality of his thoughts and ideas to cater to whatever Obie asked him to do. Need a missile that had a longer range? Or a faster sleeker jet? Ironteddy could make them all. The more he created the more Obie loved him, which in turn fed him energy and allowed him to create even more. It was a perfect relationship. Most of the time he was cooped up in the workshop, knowing nothing else but the tools and metals and his bots beeping underfoot and whatever JARVIS deemed important enough to tell him. Sometimes though, Obie would bring him to launching parties and press conferences, acting as a reassuring sight as Obie talked about whatever new products or announcements they had. He was not usually asked for an opinion for he could not speak and that made for an awkward interview, but every now and then he would scribble an anecdote on paper and show it to the crowd who went wild as if on cue. He sometimes had to go to board meetings to explain his new designs, and eventually it was too much for a teddy bear to remember, so they hired him a fierce redhead named Pepper.

One day, however, he heard people shouting outside of his workshop door. The screeching sound of machinery did not allow him to hear what they said, but it sounded like Obie was arguing with someone else. The next day, Obie asked him to go to a demonstration in Afghanistan. Our troops were based there, he said, they used a lot of our products and would like to have an expert on hand as they tried out the new missile. Who was better for the job, and besides, wasn’t your pal Rhodey there too? Maybe you could throw in a surprise visit.

Ironteddy, who had never been outside of America, went on his first trip alone.

 

Afghanistan was hot, but all Ironteddy could feel was the cold feeling in his chest.

He stumbled across the desert, dragging his tattered body and the heavy arc reactor sitting in his chest, not knowing exactly where to go. The Ten Rings was a ball of fire behind him, Mr Yinsen was dead, his chest was empty of love and his decorative repulsors now glowed with an icy blue. He did not even recognise Rhodeybear when his friend came running towards him; only after they were safe on the chopper could he register Rhodeybear’s warm brown eyes. The empty hole in his chest started to slowly fill with love, and Ironteddy wept. When Obie greeted him at the airport with a big hug, he could not help but burying his head into Obie’s familiar smell, his paws gripping tight and imagining his warm smile. He was so in shock, he did not even realise that Obie’s warm love was long gone.

He finally did, when Obie tried to blast him into pieces with his own armour. And so Ironteddy, armed with the arc reactor blazing artificial love he created for himself, brought his most beloved human down in flames.

Ironteddy was no longer a tough-looking toy. He was now a superhero.

 

Eventually, more teddies with superpowers showed up. First, the giant Hulkteddy, the alter-ego of a sweet unassuming Bruciebear, who wreaked havoc in Harlem and went on the run. Then there was Thorteddy, the mysterious alien who came from a teddy-ruled universe. Also, apparently the government had been employing teddies as spies all along, like Hawkteddy who was a master archer. Not only America, so did Russia, for there was Widowteddy who could bring down ten grown men all by herself. They were termed superteddies and there were talks of bringing them together as a team.

But before that could happen, there was the Chitauri.

 

***

 

Ironteddy met Captain in Germany of all places.

To be fair, he did not know that it was Captain standing next to him at that moment. It was a bit chaotic all around and Ironteddy was a bit busy fighting an alien teddy in green to pay more attention. But then, when they had caught Lokiteddy and had settled down on the Quinjet, Ironteddy realised, _this is him. Mr Stark’s Captain._

Following the New York aftermath, the Avengerteddies all came to live in the Stark Tower with Ironteddy. Their relationship, though tentative at first, slowly grew as they became more comfortable with one another. Ironteddy particularly liked spending time with Captain, a teddy out of time, full of mysteries. How Captain had managed to survive all those years was still a big unknown. Some said that he was picked up and loved by someone during this time, even though Captain had no memories of this. Ironteddy knew better though. He knew that Mr Stark’s love was enough to sustain Captain through seventy years, even though Mr Stark himself had passed away two decades ago. And it was well-justified, too, for Mr Stark had not exaggerated and Captain was indeed the perfect teddy bear. He was handsome and wholesome, rugged yet soft, charming yet disciplined. A wonderful companion to a soldier, yet was perfect to offer comfort. 

Ironteddy realised that he was in love when one evening, he suddenly woke up and found himself in the common room after a movie night. All the other teddies were in various state of sleep across the couches and sofas, leaning against pillows and burying in thick blankets. Ironteddy himself was leaning against Captain who had obligingly let him sleep on his legs. The end credit of the movie ran silently in the background and the light from the screen lit up the sharp details of Captain, the peaceful look on his face as he slept, his soft hair and round ears. Ironteddy felt a sudden bloom in his chest, a blaze of fire, seemingly consuming him whole.

He loved Captain.

 

Ironteddy knew better than to have high hopes, even though sometimes he really really wanted to. Captain was not just the perfect teddy bear, he was the perfect friend. It took them a while to warm up to each other, each still somewhat embarrassed by the things they called the other during the battle. But then, Captain began to drag Ironteddy out from his engineering binge to go watch silly 80s shows with him, and Ironteddy unceremoniously barged into Captain’s room at midnight, pulled him away from his moping and took him out for late-night walks. They could not eat, but both loved the smell of fries and burgers - Captain because he was made in a poor Brooklyn neighbourhood by a kind nurse for her French niece, while Ironteddy remembered the smell from the time when Rhodeybear took him out to roam the city, back when they had to hide among the shadows to avoid paparazzi, next to dumpsters and behind burger shops. So, they tended to wander through the shops of Brooklyn, breathing in the smell of greasy food.

Captain, once he was no longer looking over his shoulders every turn for stray bullets and grenades, started to warm up to the new world around him and Ironteddy himself. And he was a great teddy. He made surprisingly crude jokes ( _I was once with the army, Ironteddy, that’s all I ever heard_ ), he drew the most beautiful sketches and he was kind to everyone. He readily soaked up all the sci-fi Ironteddy could show him and adored playing with the bots, who beeped at him excitedly whenever he stopped by. If Ironteddy thought that by getting to know the bear more, he would lose his magic, then he was sorely mistaken. Whenever he praised Captain’s drawings and received his shy smile, he found himself falling more and more in love.

And for a while, it seemed like things were getting there. Ironteddy was quite spooked after he realised his feelings and planned to pull away from Captain before it could get worse, but Captain, in all of his red-white-blue glory, was determined to stop that from happening. When Ironteddy tried to hole up in the workshop and lose track of time by fixing a bit of armour, Captain squirmed his way in with a sketch book and giant puppy eyes, asking to hang out. Eventually, Ironteddy just gave up and let Captain do as he please. Which meant a lot of team movie nights, days out on the basketball court and prank wars all over the tower. There were also quiet nights, when Captain talked Ironteddy into snuggling with him into a fluffy blanket and watching old black-and-white movies, or nights spent on the balcony just stargazing and chatting. It did nothing to quell Ironteddy’s feelings and he found himself loving Captain more and more each day. And it seemed to him like Captain was starting to feel something too, for every now and then he caught Captain looking at him intensely or feeling their paws brushing against one another as they walked side by side around the park at night. He did not want to think about it, but sometimes he could even feel a tiny ember of love warmth radiating from Captain, a small thing that grew with each day, basking him in a warm glow and making him want to burst into joy.

Then one day, as they were out on one of their late walks, walking so close to one another their paws kept on brushing one another, Ironteddy finally decided to act on his feelings. _This is it_ , he told himself, as he deliberately followed Captain’s paw with his. Then, all of the sudden, Captain came to a halt.

In front of them, with a gun firm in his paws, was Sergeant.

 

It happened in a blur.

There were a lot of shooting on Sergeant’s side and screaming on Captain’s. Ironteddy tried to help, he raised an arm up, aiming the repulsor at Sergeant, but Captain only glared at him and raised an arm out to block his paw from Sergeant. Then, a bullet grazed Captain’s left ear and they remembered that there was an infamous assassin standing in front of them. Sergeant dashed forward and slammed into Ironteddy, knocking him aside and he fell into a fountain nearby. By the time he was out of the water, Sergeant had abandoned his gun and was trading blows with Captain, who was on the defensive and never once tried to attack. Their movements were so fast Ironteddy could not aim at Sergeant without avoiding Captain, and so he asked JARVIS to contact the other Avengerteddies, all the while keeping an eye on the dueling pair. In no time, they heard the hissing sound of the Quinjet engine and Sergeant, after a second’s thought, abandoned the fight and ran into the bushes. Captain was primed to run after him, but he was also somewhat tattered after the fight and Ironteddy held him back, silently begging him to leave it.

 

So began the chase for Sergeant.

Captain was absent from the Tower a lot, sprinting off after every rumours or sights of Sergeant. Sometimes Widowteddy tagged along, apparently she knew Sergeant back in their Russia days. After a while, another teddy by the name of Falconteddy also joined them on their chase. They would be gone for days on end, sometimes going for long stretches without even a peep to the other Avengerteddies. When they were back, they remained tight-stitched, trading quickly scribbled notes when no one was around but also quickly destroyed the notes when someone else walked into the room. Sergeant was still nowhere to be found.

Then SHIELD fell and Captain got thrown off the Quinjet. When he was recovered, Widowteddy told him to leave the search for now, obviously Sergeant did not want to return just yet, and he relented begrudgingly.

Then, Sokovia.

 

***

 

JARVIS was gone.

It still felt like a nightmare to Ironteddy, the thought of it so surreal he could not comprehend it. As if all of his thinking fibres had been burnt to crisp.

JARVIS was gone.

Instead, there was now Visionteddy, a patchwork teddy in green and yellow and red, with a billowing cape and a shiny gem on his forehead. Visionteddy looked more alien than Thorteddy and he glided above the ground as he moved. Yet, he sounded like JARVIS, his manner of speech resembled JARVIS’, he had JARVIS’ memories, all the ones that JARVIS had experienced during his lifetime. Logically, Ironteddy knew that Visionteddy was not JARVIS, yet his every being refused to acknowledge this and he caught himself almost asking for JARVIS as he rummaged through the ruins of his home.

JARVIS was gone, and so were the Avengerteddies.

They all blamed him for the destruction of Sokovia. They blamed him for creating Ultron, for playing god, for being reckless. The new teddy bear that joined them, a teddy who could use magic named Scarletteddy, blamed him for her family’s demise. Hawkteddy did not even look at him. Widowteddy patted him on the shoulders like she sympathised, but it just felt wrong. Hulkteddy and Thorteddy were gone, running off to who-knew-where. Visionteddy, confused by the events and conflicted by JARVIS’ memories, opted to stay with the others. Captain just shook his head and accepted his resignation, but he did not ask him to stay.

Rhodeybear hugged him and told him he would stay with him, but Ironteddy just shook his head. The Avengerteddies needed a heavy-hitter on the team, now that Hulkteddy and Thorteddy and Ironteddy were gone. They needed Rhodeybear with them. Besides, he could always come for a visit.

With the departure of Rhodeybear, there was only Ironteddy left.

 

***

 

Johannesburg hardly registered in Ironteddy’s mind. When the disaster happened there, he was getting ready for a presentation at MIT. He put on the BARF glasses and showed the world for the first time a memory as registered by a teddy bear, he showed them Mr and Mrs Stark on the day before they were gone forever. When he got out of the lecture hall, a woman told him that he was responsible for her son’s death, that he was the opposite of what a teddy bear should be, the opposite of reassurance and comfort. He came home with guilt and heavy thoughts swimming in his head. At the same time, Nigeria burned.

Ironteddy had known about the Accords for a while. Oddly enough, the first legal restriction against teddy bears was one asking them for accountability. If the situation was any less serious than this, Ironteddy would probably find it very funny. Yet, people were killed, buildings were destroyed, countries were ruined and someone had to do something about it. Ironteddy remembered Obie’s words on the podium ages ago on the launch of Ironteddies, praising his toughness and also softness. Ironteddy remembered Mr Stark, how he used to tell him that he would never be enough. _Maybe this would finally be enough_ , Ironteddy thought.

Things happened in a flash. Peggy Carter died and Captain flew away for her funeral, sitting solemnly in the lap of Peggy’s niece, her dainty white hands holding onto him as he stared motionless at the wooden coffin. Then, a bomb blew up in Vienna and more people died. In the chaos that followed, it looked like Sergeant, Captain’s old pal, was the one to set the bomb up. News followed that the King of Wakanda, the only teddy cat-ruled nation in the world, was destroyed in the disaster, and that T’challa, his son, had taken up the Panther title and was on the hunt for Sergeant. Sergeant and Captain were on the run, they were caught; Sergeant’s assassin alter-ego was activated, the two of them escaped. Then Ironteddy found a tiny teddy named Spideybear who could shoot web like a spider and Hawkteddy found someone called Antteddy who could shrink to the size of an ant, and it all culminated at a German airport. Ironteddy asked Captain to stand down, once again. But it was all for nought, and a battle broke out. In the confusion that followed, they got away and Rhodeybear fell down and down.

Then, Siberia.

 

Visionteddy found Ironteddy buried under the snow, his face half-torn and his arc reactor no longer shining. Captain’s shield laid at his feet, abandoned. Later, as Dr Cho stitched up Ironteddy’s face and Pepper watched on worriedly, Ironteddy told himself, _no more._

No more love.

Or so he said, but he could not just get rid of his love. Even though Captain obviously did not care for him one wit. Even though Captain had hid the truth from him, had fought him despite his grief, had sided with his friend and abandoned him, broken and tattered, in the middle of a wasteland. Even though Captain had run away to Kittyland, shaking off responsibilities and years of friendship and a promise of love.

Ironteddy hated himself for loving him still. Yet, he could not stop.

 

***

 

Spideybear was an enigma to Ironteddy.

Spideybear was nothing like Ironteddy. He lived with this nice lady named May who had had him for years. Spideybear told him, when he finally decided to come clean to May about his teddy secret, May just looked at him and pinched his nose, chastising him for not looking away whenever she changed her clothes ( _I close my eyes every time. I swear, Mr Ironteddy!_ ). Spideybear had been loved his entire life and while the two of them shared a tiny apartment in Queens and May was away at work a lot, they had never wanted for anything. Spideybear had lived his entire life always filled to the brim with love and affection, and while Ironteddy knew that was a normal life for a teddy, the concept of it was so foreign to him he could not wrap his head around it at all.

Yet, for all the love that Spideybear received, he still adored Ironteddy, an old unloved teddy bear. It was nothing short of a surprise, for how such a fulfilling teddy as Spidey could come to have affection for him was unthinkable. Spideybear’s affection was so overwhelming and blazing, Ironteddy felt like his yarn was burned every time they talked. Ironteddy, in turn, felt nothing but love to the little bear who was loving and joyful and was curious about all the things around him, jumping with joy every time he came to Ironteddy’s workshop, texting him a million questions and chasing his bots around in delight. Ironteddy did not think that Spideybear was aware of his feelings, but he would like to think that he did anyway.

One day, he woke up from a nap on the desk to Spideybear draping a blanket over him and reminding the bots to ‘let Dad sleep’. It made him feel warm with love for weeks.

 

***

 

Two years went by and the world moved on.

The Rogueteddies, or so the media proclaimed, were still not back to America. Last anyone saw them, they were in Scotland, or somewhere European. The Accords were not in place still since there were hardly any superteddies left, but still there were talks of it every now and then. Rhodeybear was more than capable of walking and running and jumping again, courtesy of the brace Ironteddy had made for him. Visionteddy had been learning the world and had helped a lot with getting Rhodeybear back on his feet, but he came to Ironteddy a few weeks ago, asking to be away for a while, then dropped off the radar. Ironteddy himself, now ground-bound, still designed for Stark Industries. He made many new inventions and Spideybear dropped by every few days to science with him or just to hang out with the robots. It was quiet and peaceful and in a way should be all he ever wanted. Yet Ironteddy could never forget the horror he saw in space, the giant spaceship, the darkening purple sky, the air thick with the threat to come. He knew in his fibre that it was only a matter of time before it finally came to Earth.

One day, as he was out with Pepper, a magical ring appeared out of nowhere and through a portal stepped out a teddy bear who had a billowing red cape and a shiny green necklace. The bear introduced himself as Strangeteddy and told Ironteddy to go along with him, for the world was in danger. Stepping from behind him was Hulkteddy, who was no longer Hulk, but just scruffy normal-sized Bruciebear. _It is finally here,_ Ironteddy thought, and so he followed them through the portal, walking away from Pepper’s worried pleas. Back at the Sanctum, they told him all about the Infinity Stones and Thanos and how he was going to destroy the world.

 

***

 

It was an unexpected thing.

There they were in the middle of space, a million sparkling stars around yet not a single soul in sight. They had no idea where the ship was taking them or how far away their destination was, how long it would take to get there. There was no need for them to be in control of the ship, so they ended up having plenty of time to spare. Ironteddy and Spideybear spent hours looking through the alien technology like bright-eyed children, amazed by how alien it all was while Strangeteddy meditated quietly. Sometimes, Strangeteddy joined them as they explored the ship, somehow following their rabid discussions with no problem. When Spideybear finally knocked off and went to the living quarters to find a comfy pillow to sleep on, Ironteddy and Strangeteddy would sit in front of the giant glass screen and peered into the deep dark space, discussing everything that came to mind.

Somehow, love crept in between them. Unlike the love he had for Captain that burned bright with passion, this was a quiet, gentle thing, like calm waves lapping at his legs when Pepper took him to Malibu for the first time. Ironteddy, no longer a stranger to the feeling, tried to shut it out as a habit and pretended it was not there, in fear that Strangeteddy would find out. He found out anyway, for on one of those endless nights he draped an arm over Ironteddy in a half-embrace as his cloak covered the both of them in a warm cocoon. _Don’t shut it away and leave me hanging,_ Strangeteddy seemed to say as he leaned his head against Ironteddy’s, whose paw gripped at Strangeteddy’s shirt as the other was cradled in Strangeteddy’s paw. _I’m terrified_ , he simple answered.

Strangeteddy did not promise him the future. All they had was now.

 

***

 

They were gone.

Like all the ones Ironteddy had ever loved, they were gone. Like Mr Stark and Mrs Stark. Like Mr Jarvis and JARVIS. Like Obie. Gone in a blow of dust, disintegrating like a sand castle at the end of the day.

He could still feel Spideybear gripping at his shoulders, his quick breath, his begging eyes. He could still see Strangeteddy’s blue eyes as it burned into his, silently asking for forgiveness, for love, for everything. Distantly, he remembered seeing the Guardians disappearing as well, yet it did not register to him what had happened. He just sat there where Spideybear used to be, his paws full of ash as he watched what remained of his beloved blow away.

Eventually, Nebula joined him. Ironteddy felt warmth surrounding either side of him, yet he could not bear to reciprocate. When she carried him back onto their ship, he could hardly feel a thing.

What did it matter, now that they were dead?

 

***

 

In the aftermath of it, Nebula brought him back to Earth.

Ironteddy almost did not want to come back. He dreaded finding out who had perished, who had survived. He found himself wondering about Captain, then quickly chastised himself for asking so. The Milano landed on the grassy field outside of the Wakandan capital in the middle of what seemed to be a battlefield. From afar, Ironteddy saw some of the old Avengerteddies, Bruciebear and Rhodeybear and Widowbear stumbling around in a daze. And there was Captain.

 _This is it?_ , he asked himself. Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, fallen under the fingers of Thanos.

 

***

 

They all ended up in the castle. Shuri, T’challa’s sister, was beyond grief when she heard of her brother’s demise. Rhodeybear was saddened upon hearing about his friend Falconteddy while Raccoon and Nebula huddled together on a couch away from the mass. Bruciebear worried his paws as he fidgeted next to Widowteddy, trading with her quick meaningful glances. Ironteddy stood by himself against a wall, not reacting to anyone around him. It suddenly dawned on him, that Rhodeybear did not know Strangeteddy. No one here cared for him or for Spideybear. No one knew of the love they shared, no one knew what they meant to Ironteddy. In the following wave of grief, they were already forgotten.

Captain was standing by himself as well, a couple feet away from Ironteddy. He also did not look at anyone and he kept worrying a piece of black fabric in his paws. His helmet was gone and his hair was in disarray. His face, usually so put-together, was scrunched in pain as he wept for Sergeant. There was a time in the past when Ironteddy would come over and try to comfort Captain. Yet he did no such thing now as he impassively watched from afar.

He knew what he had to do.

So, while no one was looking, Ironteddy sneaked out and flew the Milano away. He had no idea where he was supposed to go, so he just blindly jumped from one planet to another, following any rumours or tales he heard from the planet’s residents. With half of its population gone, the universe was still full of life, marketplaces still teemed with goods and trades, metallic cities still blazed with light, the Arena never lacked for audience and a good fight even though the Grandmaster was gone. Yet, in the spacecraft, Ironteddy felt so very alone. The last time he was in space, there was Spideybear underfoot like an inquisitive child and there was Strangeteddy standing by his side, his brilliant red cloak covering the two of them as they peered out at the universe.

 _Not too long now_ , Ironteddy thought.

Eventually he came to a lush green planet. There was a wooden hut nestled in among trees and fields, and sat on its porch was the almighty Thanos.

“Hello, little one,” he greeted, as Ironteddy trekked up to his hut from where he left the Milano. The second time, Thanos was still imposingly large, the muscles of his arms still rolled with power, the Gauntlet firm in in left hand, one flick of his finger was enough to send Ironteddy flying. Yet, his demeanour had changed; he no longer seemed frightening and arrogant, just quiet and solemn, and he stretched out his hand as if to beckon Ironteddy over. Ironteddy knew that he was supposed to be scared still, yet somehow he was not, and so he approached him calmly, finally climbing into his hand.

 _He had lost someone he loved too_ , Ironteddy suddenly realised. Oddly enough, Thanos seemed to understand his thoughts as if he was speaking out loud, for he only sighed and began to brush a finger down Ironteddy’s soft head.

 _That makes it easy then. He would know what I want_. And so he did, for his finger stopped and he frowned down at him.

“I cannot help you, little one. The ones you love are gone forever. The Gauntlet is fair, it does not decide whom to kill. Just so happen that it was your beloved who were chosen.”

_What about the Soul Stone? Can it not trade life for life?_

“It can. Are you asking to trade a soul for a soul?”

 _Yes_ , Ironteddy thought.

“Have you a soul to bargain?”

_I do. Mine._

“You want to trade your soul for your beloved.”

_I want to trade mine for a loved one, but he is not mine._

Ironteddy had expected to have to beg, to plea, to do horrible things for Thanos in exchange for his wish. Yet, nothing of the sort happened. Thanos just patted Ironteddy’s head with his giant purple hand, a hand so huge and savage, yet so warm and comforting, not unlike that of Mr Stark and Obie, a long long time ago. Ironteddy felt a warmth radiating from Thanos, not from love for Ironteddy, but for someone else, a love so fierce that even a normal teddy bear could feel, a love most unrequited, for the object of said love was already too far from reach.

Subtly, Thanos nodded, and Ironteddy felt a wave of relief. He leaned against the warm leather of Thanos’ shirt and let go.

The Soul Stone shone.

 

***

 

On Earth, Captain suddenly woke up from a long nightmare. He turned around and laid his eyes on Sergeant who was lying next to him, sleeping soundly without a single clue.

His best friend, the one he loved the most, had returned. His dream had come true, yet he somehow felt colder. Like a love for him was gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I can never in my conscience decide to have Tony reviving Stephen or Peter and not the other, nor can I confidently say that I've completely abandoned the IronShield ship. So I decided to cop out and made the best of both worlds. I in no way think that this is how Endgame would happen btw, but it's fun to be wistful nonetheless.  
> Also, if Obie seemed uncharacteristically nice in this fic it's because it was intentional. Obie being the dad that Tony never had is my headcanon and you cannot tell me otherwise! Same for Thanos-Gamora. Sure, sometimes father figures maim and sacrifice you to an Infinity Stone, but I like to bury my head in the sand and convince myself that it was all for love.  
> Also also, prior to writing this I for realsies crocheted a tiny Ironteddy who really helped inspiring me by reminding me of all the angst. So if after this story you go and cuddle your favourite teddy or stuffed toy then my mission is completed :)


End file.
